Monday, 10 March 2014

Five days

D was away the whole of last week. Well, five days to be fair. But five days too far gone. In yonder-off Canada; a different continent, across Large Water Body, where people go to sleep when we're waking up. I know there's a sea of travelling spouses and partners out there, but thankfully they're not mine. I feel limbless without D to wrestle and hug and wake up to.

It was also Chotto-ma's first stretch without Ba. She missed him so much that she finally decided to pretend he was in the bathroom. She also wrote him notes, drew him messages and licked his face on skype.

She wrote me a note too, and gave it to me (in an envelope) right after D left for the airport.

Yes, we can make a big soppy brouhaha about five days, which in Chotto-ma's words was "sixty-five days". To hell with moderation, to hell with anti-mush. When he walked in through the door on Saturday morning, we were on him like cling-film on leftovers.

So how did we spend those 'sixty-five days'? Well, apart from waiting for D to come back, we:

Overfed the ducks in the river.

Played dominoes.

Played hooky from school to watch Kung Fu Panda whilst eating dumplings.

Read books - she hers, I mine.

Had long conversations about life (it's the coolest thing; the things Chotto-ma and I talk about now, cuddled up on the sofa with a blanket on our legs.)

Ate dark red juicy plums.

Brought in spring.

Danced to Fleetwood Mac.

Baked D a Crème Caramel.

Crème Caramel

In India, a crème caramel is called 'pudding'. A pudding is a crème caramel. So, when we first moved to England that's what I expected everyone to agree to. Pudding = crème caramel. But no. Here, pudding = dessert. Everything is a pudding: a tart, a sponge cake, a cheesecake, fruits with jelly and custard. Everything. This seismic food-shift, this pudding-shock, took more time to get used to than the British weather.

Bubulma, D's mother, was known (far and wide) for her perfect puddings; her crème caramels were light, smooth. With firm feet and a jiggly hip. But the only time I ever tried making one: Disaster. That was years ago - my crème caramel collapsed like a Victorian lady, and no amount of sniffing salt could revive it.

This time, I was determined to do better. Not just I, but Chotto-ma and I. Chotto-ma, my little egg beater. My crème caramel conspirator.

Take a round baking dish (mine was about 23 cm in diameter) and keep ready. In a small pan, add about 1/2 cup water and the 4 tbsps of sugar for the caramel. Put the pan on the heat. As the water evaporates, the sugar will start of caramelise. When it is a lovely deep amber, but before it burns, tip the caramel into the baking dish. Swirl the dish so the caramel spreads and coats the bottom. Let the baking dish cool. The caramel will set.

Beat the eggs well with the sugar. Mix four cups of the thickened milk into the eggs. Add the vanilla extract. Pour in the milk-egg mix into the baking dish. Take a deep tray and fill it with about an inch of water. Place the baking dish on this. Slip the tray into the lower shelf of the oven for 50-60 minutes.

When it's done, the top should be browned, and the creme caramel will have a worrying jiggle. But as long as the jiggle is firm(ish) and not sloppy, don't worry. Take it out, let it cool. Put in into the refrigerator overnight.

Next day, slide a knife along the edges to loosen the pudding. Hold a serving plate on top of the dish and turn it upside down. Wait. The pudding should plop down, along with the lovely, caramely syrup.

First time on your blog...My mom also makes "pudding" like this!!! Only she would steam it in the pressure cooker. I love how it plonks out of the steel tiffin box on to the serving platter with dark caramel on top. I think its called 'Flan" in the US... though not sure... This post certainly brought back memories.... I loved your writing too... will come back for sure...

Progna, I bemoaned the lack of a steel tiffin box while making this. It's an essential part of the Pudding experience! My Ma still makes it in the pressure-cooker, oven be damned.Look forward to having you back xx

Ah.. that limbless feeling! LD and I know it too well :) And what a lovely post Pia! You must seriously consider writing a book, A book which I can hold in my hand, touch the words and put it under my pillow or on my chest when I sleep only to dream about your beautiful stories. Beautiful... Just beautiful!

Ok, let me count the things I loved about this post - the milk jug, the notes (precious handwriting), the serving plates (I think I've mentioned my love for that blue and white plate before), the caramel custard (as we call it at home) and Chotto- ma's baby hands. I love how you write and this was so beautifully written (the way most things that are close to the heart, tend to be!).

This post actually made my eyes go moist. I cannot explain why, but first I laughed and then...imagining the people I miss being in the bathroom (I guess they are helping eachother holding ladders and things to skrew in a lightbulb) Thank you for bringing me that image and the tears that go with it

Piya, i love your blog so beautifully written and i can absolutely relate to you, my hubby has been away working in US since last saturday and not back till hopefully tomorrow...and ah as you said missing him tons both little one (five and of course as you say not to forget the half year old little baby Z). I love that you are instilling such a love for books in her, baby Z loves books too and though we havent kept her away from the touchscreen we do limit her to 10mins a day :-) which i thought was a fair compromise but like you no video games at all we dont own any...much better to be out in the open air and we too with her :)

A kindred spirit then, Fatima. Yes, so much better to be out and about - even though the weather here tries its best to keep you indoors a lot of the time :)It's lovely to have you here, Fatima. I hope hubby is back home to you and the little ones.